Corrupting Cops
So! Nyon. Not much has changed, and what has changed has not necessarily changed for the better. With the rise of Zeta, it seemed like things might be better and Whirl's function as diplomatic contact unnecessary. Then things got worse. Now Orion Pax is yelling at Hot Rod who is stamping his feet and Zeta's out to arrest him again and WHO CARES ABOUT DIPLOMACY. There's only Nyon. So here's Hot Rod, unpacking a crate of weapons that were once destined for Zeta's security forces, and now are being checked over before distribution to the citizens of Nyon. Rebels gotta rebel. "Once you're done with that one there's six more in the back," Arsenal mentions over her shoulder as she stomps on by past Hot Rod, as she has a crate balanced on either shoulder. They're some big shoulders so they can manage it. She lugs them past and over to the crate they need to go into. *thud*thud* Arsenal sets them down in place and then stalks back to where Hot Rod is, with a smirk on her face as she does. "Who knew that all we had to do to get more work out of you was to give you more work?" Despite everything... she chuckles. It's good to be behind these walls, safe for the moment, when everything's been so bleak for so long. She savors moments like this. Is Whirl even a diplomat anymore? Probably not. That was something Sentinel Prime approved and he's been dead for a while. Still, no one has explicitly told him he's NOT so... yeah, he's going to keep doing that. The form of Whirl's altmode appears in the sky like some vast, predatory bird. He hones in on Hot Rod's energy signature to locate him, soon coming upon him and making a delicate landing nearby. Just kidding, he practically slaps against the ground with a loud thud before transforming into his root mode. "I'm here on official business, don't shoot me!" This is directly mostly towards the tall robot hanging out with Hot Rod, not the beflamed nerd himself. As if Hot Rod would ever shoot him. Hot Rod carries not such big boxes, and he only carries one. He watches Arsenal lug the crates around with a look somewhere between admiring and annoyed. Show off. "I don't know. Since we're such terrorists, maybe we should just tip the crates out in a crowd and tell people to have at and go shoot each other," he grumbles. He checks the current gun in hand, having grown quite familiar with the process in the intervening years. The rotor silhouette above draws his eye, then his /attention/ when it isn't Moonlight, but rather an Autobot. An okay Autobot, though. Okayish. He thought Pax was okay too, until Pax CRUSHED HIS SPARK. "Is this the kind of official business where you try to arrest someone, because I don't think 'don't shoot me' will help you there." "Like you have let the title of 'terrorist' stop you before. It wasn't THAT long ago that Breach branded you with that. Maybe it's a title you were born to have, so best get used to it rather than bemoaning it." It's also good, to Arse, to have moments like this when she can be... well, more forgiving. Despite the moniker that Hot Rod has she increasingly feels that he doesn't ... well, go the distance. It's something she keeps meaning to bring up, like maybe NOW would be a good time. She chews her lower lip as she thinks about it. He has a gun in hand. If there was ever a time to encourage him to pull the trigger... Oh goody! A visitor! It's a good thing that Arsenal knows who this bot is because as soon as he's there, well, she has a gun in each hand. Where did they come from? Oh, from any one of about a zillion places she has them stashed on herself. The guns go down as she sees the boys banter. Well, they *try* to. "That was baaaaaaaaaad," she remarks. She even puts the guns away again. "For a greeting that was pathetic." These two are clearly old friends. "You should at least hug." She grins, widely. Arse is eager to see the mech-on-mech action. "Okay, maybe 'official business' was an exaggeration," Whirl admits with a shrug. "Or just a flat out lie- LOOK, the point I'm trying to make is that I don't want to get shot, alright? And give me a friggin' break, you really think I'm going to arrest you? You're far more entertaining when you're running around and getting into trouble anyway." There's a wary look towards the femme when he spots those guns in her hands but he relaxes once they go down. He briefly wonders if this is the badass body guard he's heard so much about, but then she teases his poor attempt at a greeting and encourages him to hug Hot Rod like he actually cared about him or something and he thinks.. yeah, probably. "You're absolutely right. It's been sooo long since we've seen eachother afterall, I think a hug is long overdue." Whirl reaches out and snatches Hot Rod in his claws, drawing him in for an extremely close, extremely uncomfortable embrace. "Mmmmm, this is nice, isn't it?" Arsenal gives a little bounce and a clap as she looks so pleased, so pleased her eyes are smiling. The kind of smile that suggests she's writing private fic about this. "I'm not a /terrorist/," says Hot Rod. He emphasizes this with the slap of the gun as he sets it down once the check is done. No more trigger pulling! Also his hands are free now. For reasons. "I'm a /freedom fighter/." He sounds a little petulant making the distinction. "What? What!" Speaking of free hands: Hot Rod holds his hands up like he might fend Whirl off, or go for a handshake -- clawshake? -- or something, but no, it's a totally undignified snatch-and smush, which ends up with one of his hands caught folded between his chest and Whirl's chest, which is just /everywhere/. There's just so much of it. Kind of like his spoiler, actually. "You're enjoying this." His accusation could be leveled at either of them. He pats Whirl's arm: a little awkwardly, a lot self-consciously. "I activated by optical recorder and everything," Arsenal just *beams*, seemingly unable to stop smiling. She's captured this image for good to enjoy now, in private later, and forever! "You're such a *fierce* witty freedom fighter," Arsenal giggles at Hot Rod. Hey, he's the one that just pitched a little tantrum and is now all chest-ridden. He deserves the ribbing. Arsenal waits for Rod to be released but she holds out one of her large mitts to Whirl, unafraid of that claw thing he has. "Glad to finally meet you, sir. I've heard lots. Here," she head-nods towards Rod, "And before. In the academy. Is it true what I heard that you once took down two perps with your feet and another with your face while not spilling either of their drinks - that you snagged out of the air and then claimed as your own? For ~evidence~," she smirks, clearly not judging! "You bet I am," Whirl says not so quietly regardless of whether or not Hot Rod was speaking to him. He holds the poor mech there for a few moments longer before finally letting him go and turning his attention to Arsenal. There's no hesitation as he grips his claws around her hand and gives it a firm shake, he's heard a lot about her as well and it's nice to finally meet her. "Haha, yes! It's all true, every word!" That's a lie. What really happened is that Whirl was drinking on duty, literally stumbled into a drug deal and fell on everyone but Arsenal doesn't need to know that. No one does. "I could stand here all day and tell you amazing stories about how great I am, but that's not why I came here. I actually want to know how you guys are holding up." There's a long glance at the crate of weapons the two of them were inspecting. "And I'll do my best not to ask where you got all.. that." Whirl: Best Cop Ever. Hot Rod growls, "Arsenal," all threatening-like but no one believes him. Especially not when he's being mech-handled by Whirl. He watches that handshake /warily/, like someone might getting /bad ideas/ somewhere, and it's not entirely clear who he expects to be a bad influence on who. "Just don't give it to Rewind, or it'll live forever. And he'll probably find a way to sneak it into a vid somewhere." Haunted by this vision, it takes Hot Rod a moment to answer Whirl's question. He summons a suspiciously fast, suspiciously brilliant smile. "Yeah, why don't we just never mind -- that." He casually leans between Whirl and the crates. Casually. (Autobot Security HQ, it says under destination.) "Like I told Pax, it's fuel that's the real problem, actually. The rationing is hitting Nyon hard. Funny how Security always seems to get /its/ rations, though." "Ooo!" That is the sound of Arsenal committing to do *exactly what Hot Rod told her not to*! What a great idea! Rewind would enjoy as much as she would! She knows that cheeky little bot is just as ... creatively minded... as she is. Arsenal takes her hand back from Whirl and chuckles openly. For what Whil said or, more likely, for the fact that she can't WAIT to share with Rewind! Hot Rod handwaves on the guns but Arsenal moves to very literally stand in front of them. She's big enough to mask *most* of that box. "Nothing to see here," she assures with a smile. She then clears her audios though as she nods, getting a bit more serious. "There's never enough to go around and while we have bots volunteering to skip their turns," she says as she casts a worried glance down at Hot Rod, "That can't go on forever." Whirl can clearly read what it says on the crates. Just because he has one optic doesn't mean he's half blind, but whatever, Hot Rod's right. Nevermind the decent stash of firearms he's clearly stolen from the same Security Forces he works for. "It's not that funny. We're funded by the government and we already know how much the government favors it's own interests, it should come as no surprise that keeping SecF fueled takes priority over Nyon." There's a pause as he looks between Arsenal and Hot Rod, remembering who exactly he's talking to. "Not that I think it's okay or anything! I mean, I think it's as fragged up as you do! I used to live here, I used to roll with your crew, I know things are tough. It's just.. what can be done about it?" "A lot, if you're willing to do it," Hot Rod says frankly, giving Whirl a direct, thoughtful look. "Arsenal's right: it can't go on forever. We /need/ more fuel. I'm not saying that you need to get it, or anything, but maybe you know where it is. Maybe you know what the guard rotation is like. Maybe you could do a lot, if you wanted to." Maybe. "Ifffffff... say you were to leave a door unlocked...?" She lets that hang for a moment before she connects the dots herself. Arsenal frowns a little as she knows what she's asking but... well, she asks anyway. "It's turning a blind eye, sir. You know what Nyon is like. You know how bad it can get. Well, it's gotten *worse*." Whirl just STARES at the two of of them. It's not surprising in the least that Hot Rod is asking him to go against everything he's been trained to do and risk HIS safety, but Arsenal too? Whirl thought she was supposed to be the foil to Hot Rod's brash recklessness, maybe (hopefully) keep him out of too much trouble. "You realize what you're asking me to do?" He crosses his arms and continues to give them that judgemental stare, acting like he didn't let Blast Off walk away with stolen material the last time he encountered him, like he was some kind of bastion of honesty and righteousness. Finally he sighs and lets his arms drop to his sides. "Alright, alright! I'll help you guys out, but you're going to have to keep it on the down low and I mean REALLY keep it on the down low, got it?" "Yes," Hot Rod say really seriously, absolutely unwavering under the judgmental stare. When Whirl relents, his expression lights up. He reaches for Whirl, grabbing him by the shoulders with far more enthusiasm (and affection, are you recording, Arsenal) than he showed in the smush of the hug. "Thank you, Whirl! Of course, we'll keep it quiet. You know me." Maybe don't emphasize that point, HOT ROD. "Anything you can do could mean /lives saved/." Arsenal is just... Hot Rod's walking (and willing) shield. There's not a bot online that can hope to curb Hot Rod's recklessness. "Sir, no, it's more... what we're asking you to NOT do." She does smile, broadly, as he agrees. "The less you have to do with it the better for everyone. Just... a direction to be pointed in is better than we have right now." Yeah, things are desperate. All the confidence and smugness Whirl had during that earlier, crushing hug is gone when Hot Rod grabs him by the shoulders /willingly/ and /affectionately./ Suddenly he feels a little embarrassed and uncomfortable (is this how he's been making other people feel??) "Uh..heheh.. yeah, well, don't mention it. Seriously, don't mention it. I feel like that bears repeating BECAUSE I know you." He looks over at Arsenal and gives her a nod. "I'll do what I can to help, okay? I know how desperate things are around here. Speaking of which, isn't Nyon supposed to be some big, Decepticon recruitment city or something? Am I going to get murdered walking around here?" "Yeah, I wouldn't advertise the Autobot thing," Hot Rod agrees, dropping his hands and stepping back. The lightness lingers in his smile, as though Whirl's offer has taken a weight from his shoulders. He is delight itself. He doesn't even take offense at the repeat, he just says, "Yeah, yeah. I won't say a thing, okay? Just leave a door open, point us where to go." He nods at Arsenal. "As for the Decepticons -- yeah, they are here. There's a lot of sympathy for them, what they are doing. We're not Decepticons, but it's a pretty fine line to someone like Zeta." Especially when Hot Rod, Arsenal and the rest /steal weapons/ from SecF and then /distribute them/. Wow, so hard to imagine why they get confused. "We *could* be though," Arsenal says offhandedly, easily. Yet, she smirks. "We're not though. They talk a good game though," she coughs, not meaning to bring *that* up again to Hot Rod though... she kind of did. But in a way that he can't really dismiss it, so yeah, he knows she's likely been talking to a recruiter or two. Again. "When you need help as badly as we do it's hard to turn *any* of it away. So... yeah, if you go roaming around I can't say that there's not a Con or seventeen out there that might not want to use you as an example. You know, add some visuals to their recruitment drive. We're not really living in a personnel surplus to be able to enforce any kind of open neutrality." "We're /not/ Decepticons," Hot Rod cuts in to emphasize when Arsenal suggests that they could be. NO. NOPE. "Okay, you're NOT Decepticons," Whirl repeats just in case it wasn't clear. "Honestly though? If you came up to me and told me that you decided to join up with them, I wouldn't think any less of you." These are not the words someone with an Autobot badge emblazoned on his chest should be saying but it's been made clear that Whirl doesn't think too highly of the Autobots and his recruitment wasn't something he wanted to do. "They talk a good game and they murdered the scrap out of the Senate and, well come on, look at me! Of course I'm all about dead senators! Hell, I'd be running around with the Decepticons if I could but.. you know, the whole almost killing Megatron thing and.. everything else I've done." Short pause as looks back on those things. "Anyway, there's going to come a time where you can't avoid picking a side and it's going to come sooner than you think. I'd rather be forced to face you down in combat than find you dead in a gutter because you're neutral." "They do offer supplies. *Now*. Without stipulation or condition," Arsenal does mention to Whirl. While, you know, looking over and away from Hot Rod. She really doesn't want to have this fight again, especially in public this time, but it is fair for Whirl to know what he's up against here in Nyon. "So far we've turned down all of those *free* goods." Because Hot Rod won't take them. Arsenal does look over to Whirl and finds herself... nodding! She even does the whole 'SEE?!?!' gesture to Hot Rod! One might think that Hot Rod's not really talking to Whirl when he says, "I've already picked my side. I stand with Nyon, and with the citizens of Nyon. The Decepticons work with us, sure, but we're /not/ becoming another arm of the Decepticon army." And the less said about the Autobots the better, right?" Whirl looks between the two of them again, starting to realize that this is a topic that has come up before between them and as much as he loves watching people fight, he's not too keen on watching /them/ fight. "Riiiight, this is obviously a sensitive subject so I'll let you two work this out on your own." Another glance at those crates (or what he can see of them behind the taller Arsenal) and a shake of his head. "All I'm asking is to just be careful and really think about what's best. For everyone." "As for what's best for me, I think I'm going to get the hell out of here before some Decepticon and or Decepticon sympathizer sees him and decides to make my head their personal trophy." He claw snaps at Hot Rod. "I'll be in contact, hit me up if you need anything, okay? Arsenal, it was nice to finally meet you. Try to keep that guy from getting killed, you'd be doing me a solid." With that, Whirl transforms and takes off into the air and disappears somewhere over the horizon, off to do whatever it is he does. Arsenal waits until Whirl is gone before she tries to break the ice on that whole tension-fueled Con/not-Con thing. Well, and tries to apologize without really apologizing for bringing it up. "He has great legs." Category:Autocracy